


Harm Principle

by Hermit9



Series: Amicus Curiae [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Background Destiel, Benny Lives, Canon Divergent, Charlie Lives, Gen, Jody is a mama bear, POV Alternating, POV Jody Mills, POV Original Character, Season 9ish, lawyer!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-09-23 16:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9666338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermit9/pseuds/Hermit9
Summary: After the Cage and Dean’s deal with Death to get his soul back, Sam decided he had earned something for himself. He went back to school.But for Sheriff Jody Mills, a Winchester rolling into town as legal counsel isn’t exactly an improvement, especially with the other brother still very much wanted by the FBI. When she's playing host to the FBI agent tasked with capturing Dean? It gets even more complicated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [FestiveFerret](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret), [ashes0909](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909) and [Pimento](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Pimento/pseuds/Pimento) for the beta, encouragement and telling me not to set the whole thing on fire.

Jody rubbed at her eyes and stared at the too bright station. Being called in the middle of the night by a panicked deputy was not her favorite way of getting out of bed.

“Sheriff! Thank God you made it!” Deputy Radcliffe was across the room before the door was fully closed. “I’m so sorry for waking you up, but I know you’ll be glad you got here before the shit storm starts.”

There was no coffee. Of course there was no coffee. Jody started rinsing and refilling the coffee maker, still ignoring the deputy. It could wait until there was caffeine in her veins. As the machine heated up and percolated she looked at her deputy. He was a new transfer from… some town in Oregon. Chiloquin, that was it. Good cop, meticulous with protocols, and not power mad. But right now his eyes were a bit blood shot and showing too much white. Beads of sweat ran down the side of his neck. He was trying very hard not to panic. That wasn't a good sign. 

“Ok, Nathan, what's going on?”

“Right around 3:30 we got this call from Sioux General. Several confused people were dropped at the ER door. The dispatch called because it was weird, Sheriff. Psychotic breaks, self harm wounds, stabbings, one gunshot victim. That one he had to call in anyways.”

Jody frowned. That sounded bad. Not “ _Rise of the Witnesses_ ” bad, but definitely on the same list. She stamped down the reflexive urge to call Bobby about it. Hitting his old voice-mail recording wasn’t going to get her any answers - if the number was even still in service. 

“I took down statements from the vics as best I could,” he continued, “but not much of it made sense. Then one of the vics pointed out a car pulling up to the ER saying that was the person who had brought them in. And sure enough, she was herding three more people in the hospital.”

“She who?”

“Didn’t give me a name. I took her in for questioning.”

“Any charges?”

“No. But she was covered in blood up to her elbows. The gunshot was a nasty gut wound, nurse said she was keeping pressure on it the first time she showed up.”

Jody nodded. There was a pit in her stomach, this was getting uglier by the second.

“I took samples for the record. And her clothes are in evidence. But she wouldn't give me a name or where she’d found the seven vics. She just asked for her lawyer and to be allowed to clean herself up.”

“Unusual but not illegal.”

“Yeah. But _he’s_ why I called you. See I’ve seen this guy in action before. It was a weird case like this. And this lawyer swooped in as the suspect’s defense attorney.”

“He might be on retainer?”

“That was in Oregon, Sheriff. Attorneys don't usually operate across states.”

“Ok. That’s a bit strange.”

“He threw the book at the police department. Got half of my squad fired… I… that’s why I called you.”

He was fidgeting again. Jody made a note to find those records from Chiloquin; clearly her recruit had been on the wrong side of that half of a squad.

The front door bell rang. The station was quiet at this time, so even in the break room they heard the man’s voice as he spoke. 

“Hi. My name is Sam Winchester. I am legal counsel for...”

“Oh fuck, here we go,” said Deputy Radcliffe, rubbing his palms across the fabric of his uniform to dry the nervous sweat.

Jody smiled and filled an extra cup of coffee before stepping out.

“Winchester! You roll into town and don't even call?”

Sam startled and turned towards her before breaking into a large smile and engulfing the smaller woman in a bear hug.

“It’s too early to call Jody. Didn’t want to wake you.”

“That’s alright, my deputy here did that for you.” She stepped back and gave him an assessing gaze while shoving the coffee into his hands. “You look strung out, Sam. How long were you driving?”

Sam clutched at the warm cup, drinking half of it in one long gulp. 

“Driving? About ten or twelve hours? Just got off a different case when I got this call.”

Jody took her keychain from her pocket, removing her house key from the ring and handing it over.

“You remember where the towels are?”

Sam chuckled and took the key. “Yes ma’am. But...”

“Good. She’s at a friend's house for a sleepover. Coast is clear. Now go.”

“My client?”

“Will be fine, I’ll check in on her.” Jody slapped Sam on the shoulder and gave him a shove towards the door. He drained the last of the coffee and started moving as ordered. “Oh, and Sam? I have spare bottles of the shower gel. Don't skimp.” 

Sam raised his hands in defeat and walked out of the station. Jody turned to face her slack-jawed confused deputy. 

“What? I have known him since he was a knee-high kid. The sun has yet to shine on the day when I will be scared of him.”

Deputy Radcliffe nodded but didn’t comment, still clearly rattled by the exchange. That was good, Jody figured. Might give her a few minutes to pull a plan together to get them all out of this mess.

Stepping into the interrogation room, Jody took a good look at the eyewitness her deputy had brought in. The woman was in typical hunter fashion - red leggings under a denim skirt, combat boots, at least two layers of shirts and an army green jacket with the sleeves torn off. Bracelets with charms and dangles went up her left arm, the smooth worn leather only a shade or two darker than her skin. Her hair was held back with a lavender scarf, or at least it probably was lavender when it wasn’t covered in sweat and flecks of dried blood.

The hunter opened her eyes and looked at Jody with complete and utter lassitude.

“Lawyer,” she said, closing her eyes again.

“Yep. I know. Sam is on his way,” Jody answered, keeping her voice level and professional. “I sent him to freshen up. You should thank me. Being stuck in a small, ill-ventilated room with a Winchester who's been on the road too long is probably a human rights violation.” 

The woman opened her eyes again, still silent but curious now.

“I’m Sheriff Mills. Do you have a name I can use to refer to you?” Jody waited, seeing if the olive branch would be taken. Hunters were a paranoid lot, allowing for a pseudonym was the least she could do. 

“I’m Jade.” She extended her hand towards Jody. One of the pendants from her bracelets was dangling off her wrist and near her palm. Jody shook her hand, making sure to let the silver jewelry touch her. 

“Ok Jade. I’m going to get you some food and coffee so you can wait for that boy to get here. Do you want some gauze for your hand as well?” The cut on the hunter’s hand was clean and had been made with a sharp blade. Jody figured it has been made with one of her own, for a sigil probably. Jade’s posture was much more relaxed. Referring to the over six foot tall, and walking mountain-of-muscle Winchesters as “boys” was as close to screaming “ _I’m at least familiar with Hunter society_ ” as one could get.

“No. It’s fine, the wound needs to breathe. But thank you.”

“Sure thing.”

By the time Sam came back (changed, his damp hair tied back in a ponytail and much more pleasant smelling) Jody had downed another cup of coffee, sent an inquiry email to Klamath County and started reading the reports from the hospital. The gunshot victim had died on the table, so this was officially a homicide investigation. Fan-freaking-tastic. The dead man was from Syracuse NY. The other people, at least those who were calm enough, were starting to call their families, and missing person reports of the last few were coming in. 

She flipped through the files on her desk. Fresno, California. Kansas City, Missouri. Jody let out a heavy sigh. A homicide case with many, many state lines crossed. This was a federal case and there were too many people involved to keep it quiet. Calling the FBI in the early hours of dawn was added to her list of “Things I’d Rather Not Do”. 

Jade had continued to refuse to talk, except to thank them when food was brought over. She’d demolished the greasy diner food with the gusto of those who often went hungry. As soon as Sam returned he’d gone to sit with her, and attorney-client privilege meant Jody hadn’t been able to stick around and listen. On the plus side, neither had Deputy Radcliffe.

“Jody?” Sam’s voice was soft, peering through the partially opened door. “I knocked. You didn’t answer.”

“I’m sorry Sam, come in.”

He walked into the office and closed the door behind him. 

“Here’s Jade’s statement. Just let me know if you have other questions for her.”

“Thanks Sam.” Jody took a deep breath and looked behind him at the closed door. “How bad are we talking?”

Sam ran a hand over his face and pulled a chair, flipping it and sitting so that he was leaning his chest against the high back of it, arms crossed on the top.

“What makes you say that?” He spoke quietly, muffled somewhat by his arms.

She stayed silent and glared at him. That innocent look probably worked on a lot of people, but come on, give her some credit. 

Sam cracked after twenty seconds. “It’s bad. I don’t know how big yet. And, yes, she called me before ever getting those people to the hospital.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“I’ll let you know what I can, Jody. I promise.” 

He got up and replaced the chair by her desk, opening the door but not quite stepping out.

“Do you have suggestions for good, clean, cheap motel around here, Sheriff Mills?” His voice was stronger, not suspicious, but this part was meant for other ears. “My client has agreed to stay in town if it can help your investigation, but she’s looking for a place to stay.” He paused for a second “And that means that so am I.”

Jody blinked at him. “I thought you knew every quirky independently owned motel in the continental United States?” Then it hit her. Both Sam and Dean’s mental map would be blind around Sioux Falls, _because they would stay with Bobby_. But Singer has been dead for four years now and his house burnt to ashes for even longer. “There’s the Candlewood near the airport. Your client should be fine there for a while.” She paused and jotted a few things down before tearing a page off the notepad and handing it to him.

“What’s this?” he asked, puzzled.

“A grocery list. You eat like a horse, if memory serves.” Jody walked around the desk to escort him out of her office. “I have a spare bedroom. I’m not letting you sleep in a motel, Sam. Bobby would rise from the grave to come and slap me if I did.”

Sam chuckled, but there was a hint of tears in his eyes. “It’s fine, really. I don’t want to impose. And with Alex…”

“Alex will get over herself for a few damn days. This isn’t up for negotiation Winchester. Now git.”

She squeezed his shoulder before he could argue. Sam shrugged in surrender and went to get Jade from the interrogation room. The hunter nodded to Jody and followed him out of the precinct. This was going to be an interesting week. Jody prayed that it wouldn’t be more than a week.


	2. Chapter 2

Deputy Nathan Radcliffe liked to think of himself as a good cop. His grandfather had been a detective; there had never been more pride in his eyes than the day Nathan got his own uniform. It was a good legacy (and possibly as far removed from his father’s as he could get), one he had hoped to pass to any future kids once he’d proposed to Catherine formally. It was a good plan, neat, orderly. 

Until a walking, talking nightmare of a lawyer had messed it all up. He lost his job, his girlfriend, his life. He did gain an ugly misshapen scar above his eye out of the ordeal. Nathan had moved across the country to rebuild a name for himself and try to regain a career. Only to watch the same nightmare waltz in.

“Nathan? Nathan!” Fingers snapped in front of his face.

“Sorry, Sheriff. I was zoning out.”

“I saw. If you’re done wool-gathering, help me clear out the conference room.”

“Sure. But, huh, why?”

“Incoming FBI team. They’ll need somewhere to set-up.”

Nathan helped move Christmas decorations and other miscellany out of the room for the next hour. The Sheriff had left it to him after twenty minutes, to go over the statements and reports. Something was bothering him, gnawing at the back of his mind. Sheriff Mills was acting very matter-of-fact about the federal case. For that matter, she hadn’t batted an eye at the weirdness of the case at all - several persons claiming they had been possessed by black smoke and not even a raised eyebrow? He was washing the wheeled white board when he heard a knock on the open door behind him. 

“Huh, deputy?” Nathan turned around to face the person who has ruined his life, feeling his shoulders curls up to his ears in subconscious defense. He was leaning against the doorframe, nonthreatening and looking at him with earnest eyes. “Jo… Sheriff Mills said you had my client’s car towed from the hospital?”

“Yeah, I did,” he answered with an edge of challenge, the unspoken, ‘ _What of it?_ ’ hanging in the air. He waited for the nagging barb, the sly remark about having messed up. It didn’t come.

“Makes sense. Do you remember which impound lot?” 

“Richardson. They’re the closest.” Nathan paused as he watched Winchester’s face contract with disgust. “What? Unpaid bill with them?”

“No. No. Just… their head mechanic is a quack.” He shook his head, relaxing against the door again. “I grew up spending summers at Singer's Salvage just out of town. Playing hide and seek in the cars and listening to Bobby as he taught my brother how to fix whatever junker project he had picked.” His voice was soft and just a touch wistful. “I was a nerdy kid, always stuck in a book, but Dean could fix a motor better and faster at fifteen than Robertson in his entire career.” He pushed himself up with a sigh. “So showing up there is going to be like running the gauntlet… Anyways, I will get out of your hair now.”

Nathan stood still, staring at the empty air for a full minute. Winchester. Dean. Dean Winchester. Deadliest random shooting spree in recent history, mowing down innocents in a St-Louis diner. Brother. Sam Winchester’s brother was a wanted serial killer with a dedicated task force. He looked around the conference room, suddenly understanding why the Sheriff had asked to clear it out.

***  
The FBI team rolled up a couple of hours later. It was about 10 am and the sun had finally broken properly, spreading early summer warmth with it. Nathan felt the nervous sweat build up and down his spine again. There probably was a whole written protocol for “show up and intimidate the locals” in the bureau’s handbook. Or maybe massive black SUVs really were the most economical choice for a rented car. Somehow.

Three agents stepped out, with crisp black suits probably worth a month of his salary, guns around their waists, and one of them carrying a white banker's box. Files, most likely. It looked heavy. The woman stepped forward and shook both their hands.

“I’m SSA Joyati Kaur, these are Agent Terrence Williams and Agent Todd Miller.”

SSA Kaur was smaller than Sheriff Mills, but she had a very domineering presence. Her long black hair was braided and pinned back in a bun, while the subtle shine of her bright red silk blouse enhanced the cinnamon tones of her skin. There was the spark of a vicious intelligence in her brown eyes, visible behind the courteous mask. Nathan felt that this wasn’t a woman who left anything to chance. Agent Williams was all looming intensity, crew cut hair and suit jacket a shade too tight over the muscles of his arms and torso. Agent Miller was softer, blond and pale where his partners were dark and broody.

“Agent Williams is co-investigator, Agent Miller will be our liaison agent. Do you have anywhere we could set ourselves up?”

“We cleared the conference room,” said Nathan. He had not meant to say that out loud and felt slightly betrayed by his puppy-like eagerness in front of the feds. 

There was a low whistle behind the agents. “They sent the lead of the task force on an unrelated case,” Winchester chuckled. “At least there’s resources mobilized for the investigation.”

SSA Kaur turned and gave an assessing glance over the much taller man. “Good morning, Sam. How’s your brother?”

“I have no idea, Agent. I haven’t had any contact with Dean in years. I would have called you if he’d gotten in touch, as I am mandated to do.” He smiled, relaxed and easy. “But I’m going to guess he’s somewhere eating too much junk food, listening to loud music and singing badly.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Miller.

“Because,” Sam answered, turning to him, “as far as I know your task force still has shoot-on-sight orders and I’m the only next-of-kin.” He walked past them and into the precinct, calling back over his shoulder “and I haven’t received any calls to come ID his corpse.”

There was unmasked fury on SSA Kaur’s face. A chill shook its way down Nathan’s already drenched spine. 

***  
The FBI team took over the room in record time, setting up visual investigation boards with all the missing persons and a short bio for each. Place of residence, age, profession. Trying to find a common link. The backside of the white board was covered, with resigned practice, by Dean Winchester’s mug shot and what few leads they had. The board was pushed back against the wall once it was set. Either to hide it from Sam or because it wasn’t immediately relevant, Nathan could not say.

Agent Miller was all smiles and apologies as he commandeered the fax machine and a printer, asking if there was a phone he could use. It was hard not to like the blond agent, which is why he was good at his job. He was obviously used to having to smooth down ruffled feathers and manage the egos of local forces. The three agents shuffled for a while, voices muted behind the door, then sat with the hospital reports and started reading. 

Nathan stopped staring at the trio through the windows. It was their case now, they would come to fetch him when they needed to go somewhere or get something done. No use in trying to get into a pissing contest with the feds, they always won. Besides, he didn’t particularly want them to dig into his file. Life went on. Maybe the Sheriff would have something else to assign to him.

Voices from within one of the interrogation rooms caught his attention. He glanced inside and saw Winchester sitting at the table, overly long legs spread to the ‘perps’ chair, ancient laptop open in front of him with some video chat program running.

“Ok, so all the forms for the pro hac vice admission are filled out and in your inbox. Just print them out if you end up going that far. I’ve also pulled a few precedent setting cases for you to review.” The voice was mangled by the low quality speakers, but the red headed girl sounded young and upbeat. 

Nathan stepped away from the door to give himself some deniability, trying to keep the laptop screen in sight. But, since there was no client present, surely this wasn’t violating anything, if he listened for a while? After all, the door could have been closed if he really wanted privacy. Besides, Sheriff Mills was clearly emotionally compromised, not acting as objectively as she should. If there were any potential leads, or anything legally gray, it was important that someone took note and acted on it. 

“Great, thanks Charlie. That’s a great help.” Winchester’s voice was warm, like when he talked to Sheriff Mills. Whoever this Charlie was, he liked her.

“I know. Come on, say it, I’m the best. Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll only answer Monday, but I’ll have my phone for emergencies.”

“Yeah, ok. You’re the best. Hey, is this weekend your LARP thing?”

“Sure is! It’ll be awesome.” The girl, Charlie, was smiling now, looking even younger.

“Are you still queen over there?”

“Yep. Longest ruling sovereign. I’m unbeatable.” There was a smug air in the pose she took and her eye sparkled with mischief, even on the pixelated webcam feed.

“Give a hug to your handmaiden for me will you?” Sam’s voice was softer on that question, and Nathan took a step closer to make out what he was saying.

“You could come and play with us and do it yourself…”

“I’m working here, Charlie.”

An eyeroll was her answer to that, letting several seconds pass before speaking up. 

“All right, all right. Stow the beaten puppy look Samshine. There will be royal hugs all around.”

“Thanks.” There was something in his tone Nathan couldn’t quite place. Relief, or longing, maybe?

“You’re welcome. Charlie out.”

Winchester sighed and closed the computer with an audible click. “Can I help you Deputy?” he asked without turning around.

“Err, the humm,” Nathan said, flustered that he had been caught eavesdropping. Sam rose from the chair and turned to face the open door, leaning slightly against the table, not quite sitting.

“The feds wanted to go over your client’s statement?” Nathan offered as an excuse. It was weak, but the lawyer just smiled.

“Of course they do.” He picked up the laptop and his shoulder bag, closing the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Jody seriously considered having Sam sit in all future briefing meetings with federal agents. She needed to figure out what his retainer fee was; it might be worth getting a new mortgage on her house. She decided against it, in the end, he had better things to do with his time. But for a moment it had been sorely tempting. 

They’d gone over everything in Jade’s statement, which frankly was a little shoddy but Jody wasn’t about to mention that. How had the bleeding people been walking on the side of the street in the first place, for one? The anger and annoyance were climbing by the minute in both investigators, at least in part because Sam was smooth and kept his answers factual. It wasn’t his job to solve the investigation so he wouldn’t allow them to lead him into conjectures. Just redirected to _Good Samaritan_ laws and civic duty and being a morally __good person. It was art, pure and simple.

He ran them in circle for an hour, before the feds pushed to talk to Jade directly. Jody left them to it, she had the rest of a precinct to run. Judging by the fury dripping from SSA Kaur as they stepped out of the room, Jade probably gave them the silent treatment and let Sam talk anyways. She was fixing the radio to her shoulder when Agent Williams walked up to her.“Do you have a moment Sheriff?”

“Sure, let me get my Deputy on this domestic disturbance call… Radcliffe!” she shouted. “Domestic at the Lane’s can you take care of it?”

“Again?” he asked, with an edge of a whine to his voice.

“Yeah. Try to see if Liz will leave with you this time? The shelter’s information is —”

“—in the drawer of the reception desk. I know, Sheriff.” Nathan looked back at the FBI agent and nodded before heading out.

“Frequent flyers?” Williams asked, following Jody back to her office. 

“You can say that again. What can I do for you agent?”

“I just wanted to check in with you. Your deputy mentioned that Sam Winchester will be staying with you during the investigation?” His tone was neutral, professional, but something in his eyes spoke of a trap. “We just want to make sure there’s no conflict of interest here, you understand.”

Jody took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. The slight smirk on Williams’ face told her everything she needed to know about where he perceived the root of this conflict to be. As if she’d ever look at Sam like _that_. 

“Yes, he will, Agent Williams. And I’m only going to tell this story once, so take notes and report it back to your team.” She waited until the agent nodded. “I lost my son, Owen, to a childhood illness. Nothing that could be done, it’s no one’s fault. It tore me and my husband apart and I lost Sean seven years ago to suicide.” She took another breath, this one to push back the emotional tides that always followed talking about her lost family. It hadn’t been suicide that put a bullet in Sean’s brain but really, no need to bring up the whole zombie debacle. “Six months ago, a teenage girl walked into this precinct, scared and skittish. She was running away from her abusers after being taken from Wisconsin by a gang in 2006. They’d been using her in vile and disgusting ways all across the country since - I don’t think I need to draw you a picture?”

Williams shook his head, looking pained. Jody guessed they dealt with their share of ensnared minors in their own cases. Some things were sadly the same no matter what state lines they crossed. 

“Sam came when I called him,” she continued. “He didn’t charge a single red cent, just finagled the paperwork and dealt with social services so Alex could stay with me instead of getting lost in the system that had already failed her.” Jody smiled, but it had no warmth and her voice took a steely edge. “It’s still touch and go. She’s been through a lot of things no child should ever have to face, but Alex is my daughter now. And, as far as I’m concerned Sam’s family as well. Does that answer your concerns?”

“Yes.” He had the good grace to look abashed as he stood. “I’m sorry for your losses and for bringing it up in, ah, such an abrupt manner.” 

Jody waved it off. “It’s alright. Doing your job. You didn’t know.”

Agent Williams turned to step out of the office, only to slam bodily into the living wall that was Sam Winchester. 

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, flustered and a bit angry.

“Long enough,” he answered, smiling softly. “Sorry for startling you, I have been threatened with a bell a few times.” Sam looked over the agent’s shoulder at Jody, side stepping and turning his body so that Williams could leave if he wanted to. “I actually wanted to talk to you about Alex?”

“Oh?” Jody tried to hide the smirk the agent’s loss of composure had brought forth. You can take the hunter off the road, but you can’t undo a lifetime of training. She caught Sam’s eyes and noticed he was fighting his own smugness.

“Yeah, I’m about to keel over. There’s not enough caffeine to keep me up much longer, so I’d really appreciate being able to get my four hours of sleep? Would you mind calling her so she knows to expect me when she gets home?”

“Sure thing. I’ll do that now.” She kept an eye on Sam and Agent Williams as they left her office. Calling Alex was a waste of time. Texting her, on the other hand, was incredibly more effective.

“Why request the specific warning?” asked Agent Williams as he followed Sam back to his makeshift office in the interrogation room.

Sam stopped and sighed, dropping his voice before answering. “I’m a six foot four physically imposing man, Agent. Alex has spent the last four years in a situation where those facts spelled nothing good for her. Your boss might not like me, but I’m not the monster she wants me to be.”

******  
The sun was low in the sky by the time Jody returned home. One should not be forced to witness the red-gold glory of both dawn and dusk in the same day. She reached for her keys before she remembered that she’d given the house key to Sam. The conspicuous absence of the red and black mustang let her know he wasn’t inside. Hopefully, Alex was home, calling a locksmith would be the last straw after a long day. The door swung open easily, thank God for small favors. Manilla folders and file boxes littered the coffee table. There were also neatly written post-its all over the kitchen (with notes of what had been put away where), no dishes in the sink and, if her eyes weren’t deceiving her, the floors had been swept. 

Sam returned well after dark, the low rumble of his car echoing through the opened windows. “There’s a plate for you in the microwave,” Jody greeted, refusing to uncurl from the couch and the re-run of Pretty Woman. Her chamomile tea warmed her palms through the chipped yellow mug and she was comfortable. Alex had retreated to her room under the guise of homework and study, but clutching her smartphone in a way that was so _teenager typical_ that it had soothed some of the pain brought up by the day. 

“Thanks,” Sam replied. He was carrying a plastic grocery bag and dropped a canister of salt by the front door as he walked in.

Jody raised an eyebrow. “Anything I need to worry about?”

“No,” Sam said around a bite of cold pasta. “I… I just want to be prepared?”

“Uh huh.” Jody believed that about as much as she believed that Sam hadn’t been in contact with Dean in over four years or that Santa Claus dropped down chimneys to bring coal for naughty kids. Santa Claus was still make-believe, right?

“What’s with the muscle car?” she asked, changing the subject. “Doesn’t that thing guzzle gas like crazy?”

“Yeah it does. I had one of those hybrid electric things while I was in school. Great mileage. But the first time I really drove it somewhere it felt… wrong. I got a patch where the radio cut out and it was so eerily silent, too smooth. Sold it as soon as I could.”

“It’s nice, this one. Baby’s got competition.”

“Baby’s a big girl. She can deal with it.” Sam winked at her. No contact with Dean? Right. 

****  
Maybe it was instinct from when Owen had colic compiled with being the adoptive mother of a flight-risk teenager with attachment issues. Or maybe just too much coffee and heartburn that sent her padding down to the kitchen in checkered pajamas and stocking feet. Passing by Alex’s room she stopped to peer inside, watching the soothing rise and fall of her breathing. Sam’s room was open, the bed unmade and messy.

Jody reached for the antacid tablets in the cupboard by the sink, she tipped two into her hands and looked outside the window with sleep blurred curiosity. The porch light was on. She could see Sam’s silhouette a few steps from the house, and that of a man she didn't know, walking towards him. Something about him made the hair at the back of her neck stand up, a primal feeling of danger screaming from the lizard brain. Walking as quietly as she could, she grabbed her pistol from the drawer in her room, and returned to the kitchen door. She prayed its hinges wouldn’t scream bloody murder.

“I’m surprised you called me, cher.” The man’s voice was low, warm like honey and he spoke with a cajun accent.

“I have feds breathing down my neck, can’t even step within a mile of anything.”

“Still, you don’t particularly _like_ me.”

“… But Dean does, and right now that’s good enough for me”

Jody stepped out, gun lowered but safety clicked off, trying to get a better look at the situation. The man wore dark, practical clothing and a newsboy hat. There was a few days beard on his face, and he looked older than either Sam or Dean.

“Sam? Care to introduce your friend?” she asked. 

Sam startled and turned with the sheepish look on his face that meant he hadn’t wanted to get caught.

“Jody, meet Benny Lafitte. Benny, Sheriff Jody Mills.”

Benny took a step forward so he was fully in the light. There were laugh lines around his pale blue eyes and his smile was both easy and sad. “I’d shake your hand but that’d require asking you to put down your weapon, and I am not that bold.”

“Benny is here as backup for Jade. For the things neither of us can get involved with.”

“Dean vouch for you?” Jody still felt on edge. Danger, predator. “You’re not a hunter, are you?”

“I am now. Everyone needs a hobby.” Again with the easy smile and the self deprecating shrug. “I owe Dean my life, you don’t have to be afraid of me, Sheriff. Anything tries to touch you and yours? They’ll have to go through me.”

Sam cleared his throat, trying to diffuse the tension. “Jade’s waiting for you.”

“All right, brother. I’ll be in touch.” Benny tipped his hat to Jody, walking away with a steady gait.

“He’s not human is he?” Jody asked, flicking the safety back on her gun and relaxing her stance.

“No. He isn't. He is also not a threat.”

“Do I want to know what they are up to?”

Sam smiled and slung an arm around her shoulders and dragged her in for a side hug. “Believe me, it's better you don't.”


	4. Chapter 4

The morgues across the country are always painted in this sickly shade of green. Maybe that was the paint’s sample name: ‘ _Cadaver green_ ’. Nathan hated the morgue. It was cold and sounds echoed off the doors of the stainless steel drawers in a dissonant way. The haze of chemicals was also an issue, making his head thrum with something midway between a migraine and a sinus rebellion. 

“Ok, so none of the cameras saw anything?”

The medical examiner ran a hand over his face, scratching the uncharacteristic stubble. Dr. Greeley was well into his fifties and usually a calm, matter-of-fact man. It was the first time Nathan ever saw him rattled, no matter the state of the bodies brought in for autopsy. “No. The power was cut for a 40-minute window. I have the recordings we managed to capture available for your office. When everything came back online, they were here.” 

Nathan looked back over to the two examination tables and the open drawer. The three bodies were fully clothed, lying on their back with their crossed hands resting on their sternum. Wallets and IDs had been left on their chests, eyes closed. They looked like they were waiting for their embalming. The problem, of course, was that someone had broken into the morgue to put them there.

“Any idea as to time of death?”

“I’d say 48 hours or so? They are out of rigor but decomp didn’t have time to set in... But even that is strange.”

“Strange how?” Nathan asked, even though he really didn’t want to. As he had feared the doctor moved over to one of the corpses and pressed one gloved finger into the torso of a middle-aged man.

“If you look at Dan here, several of his ribs were fractured and, just from the angles of them, punctured both lungs. I would have guessed blunt force trauma, hit by a car or something similar. But there’s no bruising.” He then moved over to the illuminator and pointed to the two x-ray negatives attached to it. “So I got curious while waiting for you and took a few images. I didn’t touch him or disturb the scene, don’t worry. Now, the strange things is that the ribs have started to knit together at this angle.” He looked up to meet Nathan’s slightly nauseous gaze. “His ribs, they started healing while perforating his lungs. This man should have died weeks ago, Deputy.”

Nathan swallowed nervously. He glanced at the driver’s license on Dan Jackson’s chest, the inexpressive picture matched with a Nevada address. 

“All right, I think I have everything Doc. I’ll probably be back with one of the feds, this looks like it’s theirs anyways. Has the crime scene unit been by yet?”

Dr. Greeley shook his head, “I’m waiting for them, then going to get myself a drink. Deputy, I’ve seen strange things in my career, some very strange things, but it’s the first time someone snuck a corpse into my morgue.”

Nathan didn’t blame him. He wished he could have a drink himself.

***  
To say that SSA Kaur was unimpressed by this turn of event would be akin to saying that a house caught in a tornado was facing a stiff breeze. She corralled most of the precinct technical team (a few of them still in their pajamas as a passive act of rebellion) into pulling traffic camera's footage, looking for anything around the morgue.

She also had two of them scan for classic muscle cars. That seemed rather specific, considering nothing at the scene even hinted of a vehicle like that. And it’d be a poor choice to transport three corpses anyways. Nathan shook his head, better the tech crew than him.

Agent Miller went around the room with a notepad, stopping by each desk and taking notes. He noticed Nathan and walked up to him. “I’m going on a coffee run for everyone. Is there anything you want?” Nathan glanced at the long and intricate list of demands the federal agent was holding. 

“No, but I better give you a lift. Half of those can only be found at a specific coffee shop across town.” He ignored the eye rolls from some of the technicians for spoiling the joke.

“Oh, it’s alright. If you give me the address I can...”

“Get there in the same SUV Williams took to the morgue?” He waited for a beat for the realization to sink in. “It’s ok, it’s been a long night for everyone. Come on.”

Miller followed him out of the building and to the cruiser, apologizing along the way. “We usually have at least two vehicles, but with the budget cuts…”

The drive was quiet, the streets deserted while the city still slumbered. The coffee shop was a small local business, with a lone employee at this time of night. The barista took the list from Miller without a word and got to work. Nathan pulled them to a booth to wait. “It’s nice of you to do a real coffee run, not just offer a box of donuts.”

“Boss’ treat. She knows she’s coming off as… abrasive and this is her way of apologizing. Plus it’s somehow easier to put on the bureau’s expenses than a second rental car.”

Nathan nodded. Nothing worked as a peace offering quite like caffeine and sugar.

“Is she a good team leader? She seems a bit high strung.” Nathan clasped a hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d said. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, feel free not to answer that. I don’t want you feeling like you have to badmouth your team to me.”

Miller waved it off with a laugh. “You’re not the first and won’t be the last. Kaur is under a lot of stress.” He looked over at the still busy barista. “When she got nominated as head of the Winchester task force she thought it would cement her career. She’s a great team leader, fair, and an excellent investigator. She just didn’t expect the scope of this case. Stuff of nightmares. Guy is a psychopath.”

“Case got to her?”

“Yes and no. The files are gruesome, sure, but we’ve seen worse, sadly enough. No, what got to her is that we can’t get a bead on the perp.” Miller dropped his voice and leaned in, waiting for Nathan to do the same. “This is a guy that winks at cameras before shooting hostages. Asks a bystander to film while he shoots up a diner. And then poof, nothing, falls off the face of the Earth.” 

Nathan nodded. “So her big case turned into a never ending chase.”

“Exactly. And she still had the families of the fifteen victims in California as well as the ten in St.Louis calling her for updates and demanding justice.”

“No wonder she’s not the friendliest with her target’s brother.”

“If you ask me, it’s a miracle Sam is even sane. From what our profilers are telling us, between the crappy childhood and being mostly raised by his brother, he should be just as unstable.”

“And he’s clean?”

“As a whistle, as far as we can tell. Gives me hope, you know? If someone with that many factors stacked against him can make it, a lot of the messed up kids we see can make it too.”

They were interrupted by a slightly out of breath call from the counter. “Hum, so, your order is ready. And someone better pay for all of this…”

****  
Nathan dropped the federal agent, along with his trembling Jenga tower of carrying trays and cardboard cups, at the precinct. The dispatch radio crackled on during the drive back, asking for Deputy Radcliffe to go check out on a public nuisance call outside of town before heading home and getting some damn sleep. Agent Miller had laughed at this one, as Nathan had shrugged in a half-hearted apology. Jane was a tough cookie and she didn’t like the extended hours everyone had been pulling for this case. 

Public nuisance was an easy way to end a shift. It was probably some drunk or horny teenagers in need of some mildly embarrassing lessons and a drive home. He inputted the calls address into the on-board computer and smiled. It was a small world.

Singer Auto Salvage had seen better days. None of the cars would be of much use for parts now, corroded husks that promised little more than imminent tetanus infection. The burnt ruin of a house stood in the open space at the end of the driveway. Nathan didn’t understand the appeal of the place as a make-out point, but it beat graveyards and had some level of privacy.

He clicked on his flashlight and whistled as he loudly closed the cruiser’s door. No harm in giving some advance warning to the poor kids and allow them to pull their pants up.

The gravel spread over the grounds was losing its battle against the weeds, but it still crunched under his foot as Nathan walked, flashing light inside cars. Torn leather, flashlight glinting off broken mirrors, dark sticky substance, and bits of what was probably a possum’s dinner. He kept the whistling up, checking the outbuildings and tool shed, slowly circling the remains of the house. There was nothing here, no broken bottles of beer or spent firework shells. He wondered who had even made the call. 

He turned the corner to the back of the house, intent on finishing the sweep before heading home. The beam of the flashlight spluttered and died. Nathan frowned and shook it, trying to remember when he had last changed the battery. He reached to the radio on his shoulder out of reflex, but nothing came out of it, not even untuned static. The clicks of it turning on and off were loud and echoing around him. Now that he wasn’t intentionally making noise, he realized how eerily silent the night was. There was no insect, no mating frogs, no owls swooping down to catch mice. After a few moments, his eyes adjusted to the darkness. There was movement to his left, a tall figure marching, steady and purposeful yet silent. He could make out the fabric of an oversized coat, incongruous in this weather.

“That’s all of them.” The man’s voice was low, with growling undertones, like the rumble of a faraway storm.

“Ok, let’s test this...” 

Nathan jumped, he hadn’t been aware of the second man, across the courtyard from him. He heard the grating whizz of a hand cranked flashlight and some training reflex made him kneel in the shadow of the house. The bright blue light of the LED flashlight crisscrossed the weed infested space, revealing violently bright patterns on the ground. It looked like some satanic design, a large circle with interlocking geometrical shapes and a many-legged creature in the center.

“Yeah, that’ll do nicely,” the second man said, putting the flashlight down with a metallic thud. The new angle allowed Nathan to see that he was leaning over a large, black, classic car. The light was angled towards the hood, where papers had been spread out.

“We’ll be able to channel them here, the lesser traps acting as deterrents,” said the first man, reaching the car and looking over the other one’s shoulder. 

Something was nagging at the back of Nathan’s mind, like distant alarm bells. He tried to move closer to get a better look, holding his breath and trying to stop the rocks from betraying his presence. If they heard him, both ignored him.

“Are you sure the heptagram will hold? No leaking pipes or anything?”

“Dean.” The word was short and sounded like a whole conversation. It also allowed those alarms in Nathan’s mind to coalesce into tangible information. He unsnapped his gun holster and took a few more steps along the edges of the yard towards them.

“What? I’m just asking. Don’t want a repeat performance is all.” From his new angle Nathan could see the face of the man, Dean Winchester, older than the mug shot but still looking incredibly like himself nearly a decade later. He took a deep, ragged breath. This was either going to be a career-making collar, or his biggest mistake to date.

“Dean Winchester!” He said, standing and stepping away from the shadows, gun held up like they’d trained him at the academy. “Hands in the air and step away from the vehicle.” 

The man, Dean, looked up from the papers on the hood of the car and laughed. A short dry chuckle as he shook his head. The second one turned to face Nathan, taking half a step to the side, covering Dean with his body. His right arm twitched under the beige coat. He was otherwise unnaturally still and Nathan would have sworn he saw his eyes glow blue and white, despite the light being behind him. 

“Step away from the vehicle now!”

The man took a few steps toward Nathan, not stepping away as ordered. More like mounting a charge, slow and inexorable like the tides. He was staring at him, unblinking, and there was the glint of a blade in his hand. 

“Freeze or I’ll shoot!” His voice wavered, making the order more like a suggestion, nearly a plea. 

Winchester stepped forward, and caught the man’s shoulder. “Leave it Cas. He’s just a civilian. We’re on the clock, remember? Time to go get Sammy.” 

Cas nodded, eyes on Nathan. There was a sound like the flutter of wings and both were gone, leaving behind the light and the muscle car. Nathan fell to his knees, gasping for breath, drenched in nervous sweat. He had the distinct impression he had just been judged and found lacking. Motor reflex returned his gun to his holster and he fought to get his heartbeat under control. Once the miasma of fear cleared he jumped to his feet and started running towards his cruiser. _Sammy_. That maniac was looking for his brother. Who was residing with the Sheriff. He had to warn them.


	5. Chapter 5

She was going to reorganize her dresser and go shopping when this was over. Outside, the light was at the hesitant luminescence of the moments before dawn, no longer night but the sun had yet to breach the horizon. Clearly, pajamas needed to come in three categories: everyday, date night, and “Winchesters are in town”. Jody yawned and chuckled, a strange mix that made her lungs ache. Was there such a thing as tactical nightwear? Light spilling from Alex’s room let her know she too had heard the desperate knocking on the front door. Jody suppressed a groan as she saw her deputy at her door, eyes wide and panicked like a spooked horse. She unlocked and opened the door, stepping out of the way as Nathan all but barreled in. 

“Sheriff! Thank God you’re ok! I was worried I wouldn’t make it in time. We have to call the feds, get them here with some backup.”

“Radcliffe! Slow down. Breathe. What’s going on?” 

He ignored her, pushing past her and towards the house, talking a mile a minute and not making much sense. He stopped in the corridor leading to the bedrooms, hesitant. 

“Which one is Winchester staying in?”

“That one,” said Alex, opening her own door seemingly with the power of her eye roll alone. “Thanks for not barging into my room, by the way.”

She did not get an answer, as the deputy opened the guest room and flicked on the light. The room was empty, bed made with military precision.

“Ah crap,” said Jody.

It took some time and Jody’s best mom-voice but she persuaded Radcliffe to sit down and tell her what had gotten him into this panic. She managed to stop him from calling the feds by virtue of making his hands busy with a mug of instant coffee. It was crap, tasted awful, but it worked. As the deputy told them of everything he’d seen in the salvage yard Jody watched Alex, seeing her tense, but not freaking out. Jody wasn’t sure how she felt about her adoptive daughter having more than a smidge of the hunter mindset, but it was coming in handy right now. The teenaged girl walked out of the kitchen to go look out the front windows, locking the front door and throwing the deadbolt on before coming back.

“Sam’s car is still in the driveway,” said Alex, interrupting before Nathan could gear his brain back into a tactical pattern and call for more people, more guns and turn this into a bigger mess.

“Cas probably came to get him. And they tried not to wake us up, so we wouldn’t worry.” That sounded like something the boys would do. Besides, there was only one person who’d wear a coat in early summer and face down a gun without blinking. It wasn’t like walls and distance meant much to the angel.

Alex knew it too, and she nodded.“I heard voices, it’s what woke me up. That’s why I was getting dressed way before the Spanish Inquisition tried to break down the door.”

Jody pushed away from the counter and pointed toward the door with her chin. “They probably don’t have a fallback position that is not here. Alex—”

“On it.” Alex got up and grabbed the salt canister by the door and started working on salt lines, getting every door, every window, even doors between the rooms. Good thing Sam had smuggled in so much of the stuff. Just wanting to be prepared, right. Jody went to get her first aid kit and weapons. Time was most likely working against them. 

***  
Somewhere, there must be at least one minor god or angel that still smiled upon hunters, and whoever they were Jody thanked them heartily. Radcliffe seemed to have withdrawn and settled as the adrenaline crash set in, concentrating on not spilling the now lukewarm cup of instant coffee. It wouldn’t last, but in the interval she had changed into jeans and a tank top (no use getting good clothes likely ruined) and retrieved supplies from her truck. There had been a bright flash of light, like dry lightning or magnesium fireworks, at entirely the wrong place in the sky to be the sun. The deputy started to rouse a bit as Jody handed Alex her machete, blade tarnished with use but kept wicked sharp. He blinked up at Jody, frowning as if the neatly organized gauze pads and rolls of ace bandages on the table were alien items.

“Sheriff, what’s going on?”

Jody crouched in front of him, trying to keep her face smooth and friendly. “I promise I’ll explain when this is over Nathan. Right now I need you to stay calm and to trust me, ok?” Her voice was calm, low and even. It seemed to work, like soothing a stray dog or a kid about to have a tantrum from overstimulation. It would have worked better if, in that same exact moment, something large and heavy did not ram into the backdoor, rattling the wooden pane in its frame. A large, humanoid thing with blue eyes looking over its shoulder. 

“Little help, please?”

“Benny?”

Jody hurried over and unlocked the door, signaling to Benny to step aside so he wouldn’t be hit with it. He had lost the cap at some point and Jody could see he had short spiky hair, shorter than Dean’s. He stepped inside as soon as there was room for him, scattering the salt line carelessly. Jody’s breath caught in her throat as he turned around, gently depositing Jade’s too still body on the floor.

“Can you help her, chère?”

“I… What happened?” Jody started moving, trying to assess the wounds, first responder training kicking in. The hunter had abrasions on her arm and a large bleeding wound on the side of her stomach. Her eyes were glazed over, unfocused and Jody would bet she had at least a mild concussion on top of the blood loss. 

“One of them snuck around us and got to her. Rammed her into a rusted car. Got her back here as fast as I could.” The words sounded rushed, pulled out of him as if speaking was becoming difficult. Benny sounded out of breath, or maybe in pain. “I have to go, chère. Can you take care of her?” 

“Yeah, sure. Radcliffe, give me a hand, we need to put pressure on this wound.” 

“We need to call this in, Sheriff. She needs a hospital.”

“No. No hospital. No civilians.” Jody’s gaze snapped back to Benny, who was standing up and flexing his hands by his side, eyes down on Jade’s form.”Just, just keep her stable. Until the others get here.”

“Civilians? What are you talking about? What—”

Radcliffe’s voice broke and fell silent as Benny raised his gaze. It was dark, blown pupils swallowing the icy blue of his eyes. He growled low in his throat and it was a threat, it was impossible to take it as anything less than a threat. His lips pulled back in a snarl and Jody heard the completely unnatural _snick_ of a second set of fangs coming down and overlaying the human teeth. She stopped moving, hand steady on the wound to try and slow the bleeding. The bleeding. She risked sliding her eyes down, but there was no bite mark on the hunter. There was, she now saw, a lot of her blood on Benny.That the vampire had managed to stay calm this long was a cause for wonder.

“Take care of her.” He rolled his neck, forcing the fangs to retract and moved toward the door. “Redo the salt line when I’m gone.” He ran down the steps and out of her yard too fast, too smooth to maintain the pretense of being human. Jody looked up at Alex, who was still standing with the machete in one white-knuckled hand. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed, but she wasn’t hyperventilating.

“Alex! The salt please.” Jody waited a beat for her daughter to move then took a deep breath. “Radcliffe. Get me that gauze and the disinfectant. Then hold her shoulders down, this is going to suck.” To her relief, Nathan did as she asked, too scared or in shock to argue. 

When this was all over, she just might kill Sam herself.

***  
Cleaning Jade’s wounds had, indeed, been unpleasant. The hunter had passed out at some point, coinciding with the moment Jody’s supplies had run short and kitchen towels had been sacrificed as compresses to stay the bleeding. Jody shared an exhausted look with Nathan, both of them sticky with sweat and blood. The wound was too close to a kidney for comfort, though Jody didn’t know if Nathan had been shocked or cowed into dropping the suggestion to move Jade. Jody wondered if this was the first time the deputy was next to someone so close to death, and part of her heart broke at his loss of innocence. 

Alex walked nervously around the house, peeking through windows and checking the salt lines compulsively. She had yet to put down the machete, not that Jody could blame her. She figured Alex would probably sleep with the blade under her bed for the foreseeable future. 

She didn’t know how long it’d been since Radcliffe had come banging at her door. The clock on the oven was just high enough that it would require her to get up to see, and Jody was tired and sluggish, feeling her own adrenaline crash looming. She was all the more dizzy for it when she heard Alex scream, bolting to her feet and crossing over into the living room faster than she thought possible. 

Dean Winchester stood in the living room, reeking of sulfur as if he had rolled around in brimstone. He had Cas’ arm strewn over his shoulder, holding most of the angel’s weight. Blood ran from Cas’ ears and eyes, but he smiled weakly when he saw Jody.

“Hey Jody,” said Dean, “sorry for not calling.”

“My line is probably monitored by the feds,” Jody said, relieved. “Is Cas ok?”

“I am fine,” he answered for himself, shaking off Dean’s concerned support and taking a stumbling step forward. “There were… more demons than anticipated.” He drew himself to his full height, shuffling towards the kitchen as he pretended not to use the walls and furniture to keep himself upright.

“He had to go Nova for a bit longer than planned, he’s running low on batteries. Sam will be here soon, he’s just cleaning up. Do you mind if I call dibs on the first shower?”

Jody nodded and waved Dean off in the direction of the bathroom, following Cas to the kitchen. 

“Sheriff?” Radcliffe's voice was uncertain, fear and doubt battling for dominance. Cas ignored him, making his way to Jade’s side before falling heavily to his knees

“It’s ok. He’s a friend,” Jody said, moving beside Cas. He was peeling back the towel and gauze to expose the wound and Jody grabbed Nathan’s wrist when the deputy tried to stop him. She shook her head minutely then released his wrist but kept looking at him. She had a fairly good idea of what was coming. She watched Nathan’s eye grow wide and reflect the blue-white light of Cas’ grace as he laid his hand on the wound. There was wonder on his slack jaw face, pure and childlike as he watched the wound knit and close under Cas’ palm. Jade took in a long staggering breath and coughed a few times, struggling to sit up. 

“Well that was unpleasant,” she said, before both angel and deputy proceeded to pass out on either side of her. Jody met Jade’s eye and both women started laughing helplessly.

“Men,” said Jade with an eye roll and a wink. She slowly got to her feet, hands seeking the perfectly restored skin on her stomach for a second. “I’ll help you move them?” Jody nodded and grabbed on of Cas’ arms, still laughing as the tension drained from her.


	6. Epilogue

The sunlight on his face was warm, blinding red and white behind his eyelids. Nathan grunted and shifted. His back was sore and one of his legs was asleep. He blinked a few times, confused, before recognizing where he was. Sheriff Mill’s living room, stretched on the couch with an ill-placed pillow digging at his spine. He could hear voices, an argument, though his head spun too much to really place the words. Two male voices, one deeper and rougher than the other. Sheriff Mills. He startled, alarmed, intending on standing up and going to help her. The night was a bit blurry, but they were dangerous men he had come to warn her about.

“Good. You’re awake.”

The voice was deeper, almost gravely. Nathan hadn’t been aware of the other’s presence in the room. The man was sitting on a chair in front of the couch, dressed in a dark business suit and an oversized, beige trenchcoat. He was leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs and hands under his chin, staring at Nathan. His eyes were very blue, and looking into them Nathan felt he was falling, or maybe floating. It was like looking into an abyss and knowing the abyss was looking back, vast beyond his perception.

“I saw you. At the salvage yard.”

“You did.”

“And you healed that girl. That was a killing wound, then it was gone.”

“I did.” The man’s tone was flat, almost emotionless but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“What… What are you?”

The question earned him a smile, friendlier than Nathan expected. “My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord.” He waited, watching Nathan, monitoring his reaction. 

Nathan’s breath was faster, shallower. He tried to force himself to take deeper breaths, no point in passing out twice. It wasn’t that he was particularly religious, that had been his grandparent's thing, really. But still. He tried to count how far back his last confession was. Too long, the answer was that it was way too long ago.

“Are you here to pass judgment on me?”

The man, being, holy _thing_ shook his (its?) head. “I am here to offer you a choice, Nathan Radcliffe.” He waited until Nathan nodded. “You have seen much tonight, that most humans think is better not to know. We can either tell you more about what you saw, or I can make you forget this night altogether.”

“What’s the catch?” Nathan didn’t know where this boldness came from, overriding the fear churning in his guts.

“It’s a one time offer. This life… tends to consume the people who enter it. If you say you want to know, I am sure Jody would be glad for the help. There’s Benny’s dead sheep leftovers that need to be classified as an animal attack, for one. The Federal agents need to be kept away from the salvage yard for a bit. You’ll need to lie to them. Dean and I were never here.”

“And…?”

“If you choose to forget? This will all have been a blackout. You’ll wake up again with a hangover and no recollection. There will be no need for perjury or secrecy. Your life will be as it was before.”

Nathan nodded, frowning and dropping his gaze to the scuffed carpet on the floor.

“When do I need to answer?”

“Pretty much now,” Sam said from the doorway, not stepping any closer. “Most of the clean-up is done, but we need to know what our next steps are. Dean and Cas need to leave town as soon as they can too, we already risked enough letting you sleep.” There was an undercurrent of an older argument there. 

Nathan sought the ocean blue gaze of the angel again, feeling the patience there now, the incredible age. It made him feel small and inconsequential.

“I…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading through the entire story! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
